


Zhong Hui's Rebellion

by ficbear



Category: Shin Sangokumusou | Dynasty Warriors, Sān guó yǎn yì | Romance of the Three Kingdoms - Luó Guànzhōng
Genre: Anal Sex, Bondage, Deception, Dream Sex, Ghost Sex, Hate Sex, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-09
Updated: 2012-02-09
Packaged: 2017-10-30 21:06:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/336117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficbear/pseuds/ficbear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Had it been Deng Ai who fought me, I would have gone to my death rather than surrender. Only your exceptional abilities swayed me, Shiji." He meets Zhong Hui's eyes and holds his gaze, quietly pleased with the glow of pride he sees in them. Zhong Hui's exceptional abilities, and his equally exceptional arrogance, are all Jiang Wei needs to move forward with his plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Visitation at Mount Dingjun

As he drains the last drops of wine from his cup, Zhong Hui tells himself that the only reason he sent a sacrificial party to the tomb of Zhuge Liang was to appease the more superstitious of his soldiers. Every one of them saw the phantom horsemen on the hill, so he was simply forced to cater to their fears. One ox and a handful of gifts are, Zhong Hui reminds himself, a small price to pay for the continued effectiveness of his troops. With the spirit of Zhuge Liang properly honoured, his men are all now peacefully sleeping or patrolling the camp, almost as contentedly as if they were in their home territory. Only Zhong Hui himself seems to remain restless.

He needs to sleep, he realises. But the events of the last few days have unnerved him, and now Zhong Hui resorts to dulling the edges of his discomfort with wine. Perhaps drunkenness will give him the undisturbed rest he needs. Perhaps it will allow him to forget how many officers have died on this mountain, and how many more must die before he achieves his aims. Perhaps he will find solace in the wine's empty embrace.

Resting his head on his arm, Zhong Hui lets his gaze wander over the maps spread out on the table before him. It would be so easy, so _trivially_ easy to reach out and take the whole of the land for himself – if it were not for the imbeciles who impede him at every turn. If only he could rid himself of these obstacles once and for all, if only he banish them from his sight permanently. Zhong Hui closes his eyes, letting the details of the map blur into darkness, and exhales deeply.

A cool breeze brushes against his skin, as if someone has opened the door. Zhong Hui opens his eyes, ready to chastise the soldier who has disturbed him, and stands bolt upright in surprise at the sight that greets him. As pale and bright as jade, the figure approaches silently until it is face to face with the startled general.

"W-who are you?" Zhong Hui asks, his voice barely above a whisper, knowing well what the answer must be.

The folds of the figure's robes billow as if caught on the breeze, and a smile passes over his face. Raising his feather fan, he points at Zhong Hui. "I have come to repay the kindness of your visit, and to issue a warning."

The young general steps back, stumbling against the chair behind him, unable to look away from the apparition. "A warning?"

Another gust of cold wind fills the tent, and a flurry of white silk whips around Zhong Hui, sending him reeling back. He staggers, losing his balance as the wind buffets him, but as he begins to fall a sudden tight grip closes around his wrists and ankles. Tendrils of silk hold him in place where he stands, as if suspending him from the air itself, and all at once Zhong Hui is helpless. Caught in the apparition's bonds as if in a spider's web, the young general struggles ineffectually against his restraints.

"Heaven no longer favours the people of Shu," the apparition says, advancing as slowly and inexorably as melting ice. "And I cannot prevent the miseries they must endure."

The silk bonds tighten, and suddenly the apparition is behind Zhong Hui, speaking softly into his ear. "But you, you can prevent the worst of their suffering."

Cold hands seem to be upon Zhong Hui, and he feels their touch even through his layers of clothes. Icy fingers trail along his spine, across his torso, traversing his body as unimpeded as if he were naked. His heart pounds and a surge of arousal jolts through his flesh. It is all Zhong Hui can do not to cry out as he pulls at his restraints.

"When you pass the frontier, show mercy to the people, Zhong Hui." The apparition's words are soft and low, but they strike fear into the young general, more keenly than a dozen plainer threats.

"Y-yes," he says, nodding as much as the web of silk will allow, "yes, of course."

The apparition is silent, and the grip of the silk tightens around Zhong Hui's limbs. The feeling of cool fingers toying with his flesh becomes sharper, as if nails like shards of ice are dragging across his skin. A glib answer isn't enough, then; the apparition demands real obedience. Closing his eyes, Zhong Hui lets his body go slack, leaning into the silk's embrace.

"The people will have no need to fear my army, I swear. Mercy and benevolence will be my watchwords," the young general says, pushing back against the cold hands that hold him. "And once I have taken Shu, I will achieve what you could not, Sir, and vanquish the Sima."

All at once the silk restraints are gone, the cool touch withdraws from his skin, and Zhong Hui wakes to an empty room. The map is crumpled beneath him, and sweat has smudged the ink. He smoothes the fabric out with shaking hands, and sits back in his chair, willing his pulse to stop racing. It's no use, though. The dream has left him tense and frustrated, short of breath and no less aroused than he was in the grip of the apparition's restraints.

He undresses and retires to bed, but cannot relax. Still achingly hard, Zhong Hui stares up at the ceiling and tries to ignore his body's hunger to be touched, pushing the memory of the dream aside, but his arousal persists regardless. With a little sigh of annoyance, the young general slides one hand down beneath the cover and begins to stroke himself, keeping his touch light and soft. The apparition left him unsatisfied, and now he must finish the job; how typical, Zhong Hui thinks, that he should have to complete even _this_ task himself.


	2. Surrender at Saber Pass

The room is richly furnished, filled with beautiful ornaments, and lit with an array of candles that blaze like stars. To Jiang Wei, it feels as if he is nestling in the centre of a sprawling flower of corruption. Its petals are the extravagances surrounding around him, and its scent is the luxury Jiang Wei has been drowning in since he arrived at Zhong Hui's camp. Did Lord Guan Yu face temptations like these, when he lent his strength to Cao Cao so many years ago? A stalwart warrior like Lord Guan Yu would certainly not be swayed by the decadence around him, but Jiang Wei is nowhere near as sure of his own steadfastness.

He stretches out on the bed, watching the candles burn. What he lacks in strength, he can compensate for with wit; if he can stay one step ahead of Zhong Hui's manipulations, Jiang Wei is sure he can prevail.

"My lord," a soft voice interrupts his thoughts. "Lord Zhong Hui wishes to see you."

"Ah, of course," Jiang Wei sits up, nodding to the servant. "I'll go right away."

"No need, Boyue. I thought I'd visit you here, and see how you're settling in." Zhong Hui enters the room as casually as if it were his own. The servant bows to both men, and leaves hurriedly. Jiang Wei can't help but envy the boy his ability to escape Zhong Hui's attention.

"You're too kind, my friend." He looks up at Zhong Hui, keeping his distaste well below the calm surface of his smile.

"Being a guest of ours must rankle, but I hope that the meagre hospitality we've been able to show you will make your stay here at least tolerable." The young general's tone is soft, and somewhat strained. Being so genial seems to pain him.

"Oh, nonsense." Jiang Wei waves away his concern. "As I said before, I am more than happy to yield to someone of your great talent. Had it been Deng Ai who fought me, I would have gone to my death rather than surrender. Only your exceptional abilities swayed me, Shiji."

He meets Zhong Hui's eyes and holds his gaze, quietly pleased with the glow of pride he sees in them. Zhong Hui's exceptional abilities, and his equally exceptional arrogance, are all Jiang Wei needs to move forward with his plan.

 

* * *

 

Reclining on the couch, his legs splayed at either side of Jiang Wei's hips, Zhong Hui looks more like a bored courtesan than a general. He glances down at Jiang Wei with a haughty, almost disdainful look in his eyes, as if he's doing the older man a great favour by offering up his body. And it is indeed, Jiang Wei has to admit, a very enjoyable body. Nevertheless, the younger man's pretty face and lithe flesh are spoiled by his conceit, and Jiang Wei has wondered several times already this evening whether it would be best to simply slit that pretty throat right now. It would rid him of the need to dissemble, and it would silence that perpetually sour, strident voice once and for all.

"Are you tired, Boyue?" Zhong Hui asks between sips of wine, spilling a little so that it trickles down along his chin and drips onto the bare flesh of his chest. "Shall we rest for a while?"

Jiang Wei keeps his pace steady, fucking the young general unhurriedly, as if he has all the time in the world. "How could I tire of this?" He says, pushing Zhong Hui's legs a little further apart. "I could have you like this all night, Shiji."

A faint spark of contempt flickers in Zhong Hui's eyes, and he pushes Jiang Wei back gently. "Not _exactly_ like this, I hope. A little variety won't hurt, will it?"

Zhong Hui rolls over onto his stomach and pushes himself up to his hands and knees, looking over his shoulder at Jiang Wei with eyes full of pride. "Did Zhuge Liang ever take you like this, when you were younger?"

Jiang Wei ignores the question and pushes forward, sliding into the young general once more, biting back the response he really wishes to give. A flare of anger burns in him at the mention of his teacher, but Jiang Wei reins it in firmly; far better to return the blow in kind, than react in anger. "You're covered in scars," he says softly, running his hand over the silver lines that cross the length of Zhong Hui's back. "What a tyrant Sima Zhao must be, to do all of this…"

The younger man tenses, and glares quite openly over his shoulder at Jiang Wei. "Sima _Zhao_? As if I'd let a fool like him beat me!" Then as quickly as the young general's outrage had emerged, it retreats back behind his façade. Arching his back, Zhong Hui pushes against the older man and moans, displaying none of the indignation Jiang Wei knows he must feel.

"I didn't know you had a taste for pain," Jiang Wei says, lowering his pace to a torturously slow rhythm that keeps the young general just at the edge of satisfaction. Again and again, he plunges in to the hilt and withdraws almost entirely, steadily and relentlessly tormenting the young man's body. Jiang Wei smiles to himself; he learned enough self-control under his mentor to ensure that if necessary, he certainly could keep Zhong Hui on the brink all night. "Of course, Shu officers - even defectors like me - have a reputation for being averse to cruelty. Isn't that right, Shiji?"

"Yes…" Zhong Hui answers, his voice taut with need, as he strains back against the older general, trying to force him to quicken his pace. "Yes, it is…"

Jiang Wei stifles a laugh, covering it with a low groan of pleasure as he begins to fuck the young man faster. No longer holding back, he comes quickly and utterly selfishly, and is spent long before Zhong Hui can catch up.

"Forgive me," Jiang Wei says, pulling out gently and stroking a hand over the still frustrated young general's back. "You've exhausted me already - you're simply too exquisite for your own good, Shiji."

He lies back, closing his eyes as Zhong Hui finishes the task himself. The mere sound of the young man's moans is equally arousing and irritating; that voice, that touch, those eyes, _every_ bit of Zhong Hui seems to provoke an equal measure of attraction and annoyance in him. Jiang Wei opens his eyes once more, keeping his expression neutral as his gaze comes to rest on the young man's sour face. The conclusion of his plans cannot come soon enough.


	3. Seduction at Chengdu

"Sima Zhao suspects you." Jiang Wei says, reaching up to take hold of the younger general's waist, steadying him as he moves. Zhong Hui leans into his touch, grinding and rolling his hips with sheer abandon.

They've been drinking for hours now, but the excitement of the day's events seems to have intoxicated Zhong Hui more than any amount of wine could. Jiang Wei looks up at the young man's face, watching his eyes burn with greed and pride. He really seems to think that he has all but won, and anyone would think that they were in the throes of celebrating his victory. The young general spreads his hands out on the map that has formed a makeshift blanket beneath the two of them, sweeping his fingers over the provinces to either side of Jiang Wei's body.

"Then it's decided!" Zhong Hui laughs, his voice rich with triumph. He rides the older man vigorously, and his words are mingled with gasps and moans. "Finally, there is no need to hide my ambition anymore! Success, and the empire is mine; failure, and I will simply go west into Shu, to be another Liu Bei. Without his mistakes, of course…"

Laughter bubbles up from within Jiang Wei, and he buries it beneath a ragged groan. Zhong Hui's hubris is as ridiculous as his body is pleasurable, and the older general can barely restrain a snort of contempt.

"The empire will surely be yours, Shiji. All you need do is pretend that the late Empress Guo left you an edict, commanding you to destroy Sima Zhao – who is, of course, the real murderer of the Emperor. You will have all the justification you need to slay Sima Zhao and take control for yourself."

"How brilliant, Boyue!" Zhong Hui exclaims, slipping one hand down to stroke his cock as he moves. The thought of taking power seems to arouse the young general more than the hard flesh impaling him. "And when victory is mine, we will share the spoils."

"I'll help you however I can, my friend." Jiang Wei slows his movements, and allows a frown to darken his expression. "But I'm not sure we can say the same of your subordinates. What will you do if they oppose you?"

"Oh, that won't be any trouble at all." Zhong Hui smirks, not breaking his rhythm even slightly. The young general rides Jiang Wei as exuberantly as if he had no cares in the world, stroking his fist ever faster over the shaft of his cock as he moves. "I'll simply dispose of any officers who refuse to fall in line."

The thought of Wei's finest officers meeting their doom at the hands of a traitor brings a genuine smile to Jiang Wei's face, the first for many months. Wielding Zhong Hui as his blade, he will finally cut down the last remnants of Wei; once he has no more need of his weapon, it will be a simple task for him to put an end to Zhong Hui's arrogance once and for all. Then, finally, he can proceed to fulfil the Prime Minister's wishes. "You truly are unstoppable, Shiji," he says, tightening his grip on the young man's waist as his climax approaches. "How lucky I am to have met you."

"And I you, Boyue," Zhong Hui groans, throwing his head back as he begins to come. "And I you…"


End file.
